


Broken Streak

by Voyaelm



Series: Oumami AU [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Fingering, Foreplay, Handcuffs, M/M, Oral Fixation, Role Reversal, Teasing, pretty mild tho, sub amami everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyaelm/pseuds/Voyaelm
Summary: “Amami’s completely at my mercy!”Amami chuckles, amused with Ouma’s little comment.“Uh-huh, toooootally.”—alternate title: amami the foreplay guy—HPA/Non-Despair AU





	Broken Streak

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry this took so long! I’ll try to get another fic out within a month owo! I’ve also decided to add extra chapters to the first installment of this series because I finally have some ideas!  
________  
Enjoy a bit of bottom and sub Amami 👉👈

Having Amami under him was always a treat. A rare one, but still enough to his sate his sweet tooth. Power rushes through Ouma’s veins; it’s been  _ quite  _ a while since he’s had Amami like this. 

The green-haired adventurer was currently bound to the thin metal rungs of his head board with a pair of padded cuffs connected by a chain. He’s wearing nothing else except a pair of muted grey boxers tented by an erection and a blush.

The side of Ouma that  _ is _ the Ultimate Supreme Leader is extremely content with the showing of submission. 

Ouma stares at the pretty boy in front of him, taking everything in.

Amami looks so gorgeous in cuffs. He looks great in everything. In the back of his mind, Ouma is slightly upset that he didn’t think of reaching deep into Amami’s closet, throwing aside expensive clothes and shoes, to get to the admittedly small plastic bin that holds all of their toys. 

The cuffs were in Amami’s nightstand from another one of Ouma’s possessive streaks. Which means they’ve been sitting unused for nearly a month. 

Now that Ouma thinks about it, they haven’t been properly kinky in a  _ while _ .

It seemed more often than not that they ended up in missionary. Ouma was always looking for new things to try: new positions, new toys, new safewords, and the like. Amami, on the other hand, was definitely more vanilla — not that he didn’t enjoy that stuff.

He just prefered the simple stuff.  _ The boring stuff. _

He, even though Amami is at his beck-and-call, can’t be too rough because they both have class tomorrow and Amami’s preparing for a trip. To say it’s a shame is an understatement. 

Maybe he can do more dirty thing with Amami when he gets back. 

But, he should probably be focusing on the here and now. On Amami and his pliancy 

Ouma rolls his hips down and smirks at the way Amami exahales, a soft whine following it. He can feel Amami’s hardness trying to spear him, and he giggles.  _ Not today.  _

“Amami’s completely at my mercy!” 

Amami chuckles, amused with Ouma’s little comment.

“Uh-huh, toooootally.”

Ouma stares down from his position atop Amami’s hips. He looks into Amami’s defiant eyes and a spike of pleasure crashes into him. 

“I’m gonna turn him in a  _ mess _ ,” Ouma hums. He lays his palms flat on Amami’s bare chest.

Honestly, Ouma’s not sure what he wants to do.  _ Do I want him to scream for me, or do I wanna be nice to him?  _ Ouma taps his index finger under his chin.  _ I have a few ideas.  _

And his first idea requires lube. Ouma grabs said bottle off the end table. He thought ahead this time; it sure beats having to tear through drawers for 5 minutes to find a bottle.  _ That was a moodkiller _ . 

Ouma moves down Amami’s body, sinking into the sheets between his spread legs before opening the bottle. He coats his first two fingers, but only starts with one. Unlike himself, Amami doesn’t bottom very often. And because of that, he’s very tight. 

But there’s less resistance than Ouma was expecting when he pushed his finger in. The idea that Amami would do something in his free time like finger himself sends a bolt of electric pleasure down to Ouma’s dick. 

It’s really fucking hot.

The pressure around Ouma’s finger starts to lessen more and more by the second as he plays with Amami’s insides. 

When Ouma decides he’s loose enough; he slips in his middle finger, pressing both of them in as far as they’ll go. Amami takes in a sharp breath, then relaxes. 

Two becomes three quickly, and Ouma debates on adding another.  _ Hmm. No. I want Amami to be tight. _

So he just keeps at it with the three, searching around for his special bundle of nerves and altering his speed to keep Amami on his toes.

He settles on slow, tender pulls and rubs which never fail to make him go crazy. Tellingly, Amami tries to push into Ouma’s fingers, only to have him stop.

“Don’t be greedy, Amami.” Ouma giggles, pulling his fingers out to the first knuckle. 

“Don’t tease me, then.” Amami retorts and continues pressing his hips back.  _ Oh okay. Two can play at this game. _

Ouma twists his fingers in a way that makes Amami gasp.

“Beg for it.”

Amami shakes his head in defiance, biting his bottom lip to keep quiet.  _ Okay, be like that.  _ Ouma doubles down, fingers quickly thrusting and dragging inside Amami.

“Mmmmmhhm- ah! Hah- okay, okay!” The chain on Amami’s handcuffs clatters against the metal slats of Amami’s headboard. “...please, Ouma. Keep fucking me. It feels  _ so  _ nice.” His hips roll down on Ouma’s fingers as much as possible. 

Ouma complies, taking in the scene while continuing to fuck Amami with his fingers. A thin trail of saliva drips down from Amami’s mouth — which opens wide when Ouma’s middle finger traces his prostate. 

“Awww. Amami’s cute when he’s wrecked.” Ouma picks up his pace, utterly delighted by the sounds he’s getting from the green-haired man. “Moan for me some more? Pleaaaaaase??”

“Oum-ah! Ouma, baby. Please. Don’t stop.” 

The pretty and wet sounds make Ouma all too aware of his own dick pressing uncomfortably against his white pants. He’s just too enthralled with Amami to think about doing anything about that or the gnawing feeling deep in his lower stomach. 

Ouma doubles down, continuing to curl his fingers in tune with Amami’s moans.

A few more drags against his prostate, and Ouma pulls his fingers out with a wet  _ pop _ . It’s debauched, but it sounds lovely. Especially when it’s paired with a whine of emptiness from Amami. 

Ouma peers down at Amami’s face, watching in awe how the slight upturn of his lips has turned into a lewd display of pleasure. Even his piercing eyes have glazed over. He really is too damn  _ pretty _ . 

Ouma seriously debates on stuffing his fingers into Amami’s mouth.  _ Nah, that’s a little much.  _ Ouma’s decided that if he doesn’t want it done to him, he’s not gonna do it to Amami. He, instead, wipes the excess lubricant off on Amami’s hip before leaning in to kiss him. 

The handcuffs clink again, and Ouma could only imagine how badly Amami wants to wrap his arms around Ouma’s neck. Or his hips. 

Ouma’s lips move to slide down the length of Amami’s ear, tongue playing with the slue of piercings. Amami hums, tilting his head towards Ouma and his hot mouth. 

He pushes Amami’s bangs from his face with one hand and pinches his nipple with the other. “Someone _ really _ wants to touch me, huh?” Ouma questions with a purr. When he gets no response — the weak groan doesn’t count — he tugs on Amami’s hair. “I asked you a question, pretty boy. Or are you already that far gone?”

Amami tosses his head back around so he can look at Ouma. 

He has tears in his eyes, making his mascara run slightly down his face.  _ So much for that dumb waterproof stuff, I guess. _ If Ouma didn’t know him better, he’d think he’d done something wrong.

“You’re as much of a tease domming as you are subbing.” Amami’s little chuckle warms Ouma’s face. He can’t say that he didn’t want Amami mindless with pleasure — pleasure that he is  _ willingly  _ giving — but the subtle banter is nice. It calms Ouma’s nerves enough to stay level-headed. 

“Nishishi~ That’s just me, Amami. I don’t play along.”

“Well that’s definitely true.” Amami gently rattles the cuffs, drawing Ouma’s attention away from that conversation’s end. “You won’t even let me touch you. I always let you touch me.” There is a slight pout in his tone that Ouma latches onto. 

“Well, that’s just  _ tooooo _ bad! I’ll do what I want, and you can’t do anything about it!” Ouma digs his nails into Amami’s hips and watches as he gasps, clipped and a little aroused. 

“Then,” he pauses, squirming against Ouma’s shockingly rough grip. “Do it. Do what you want with me.” 

Ouma, positively delighted with the admission of defeat, leans back down to take Amami into a kiss. This one is rougher, full of tongue and clicking teeth. Ouma feels over Amami’s tongue piercing and thinks about what that would feel like on his dick right now.  _ Maybe some other time. I can get Amami to suck me off whenever I want _ . 

And he really could. A few fake tears and some pouting could get his dick wet whenever he wanted. 

Oh, speaking of… 

Ouma reaches to undo his pants, sighing in relief as the majority of the pressure is released. 

The multicolored stripes on his underwear warp around the shape of his erection. It’s… actually pretty funny looking. 

Before Ouma has the chance to laugh about the sight, he quickly slips them off and throws them somewhere off the bed. 

Ouma grabs the lube bottle back from the bedside beside them and pops the lid. He forgoes a condom, selfishly wanting to see his cum dripping from Amami’s ass. Amami raises a brow, but doesn’t protest.  _ Not that I’d let him anyways. He owes me.  _

He recalls their recent theesome with Shinguji where Amami, purely in the moment, came inside him. Ouma wasn’t upset, but he has been looking for a way to get back at him.

Now was the perfect time. 

Amami’s only acknowledgement of Ouma’s little ‘scheme’ is a raised brow and a knowing chuckle.

Ouma upends the bottle into his palm, letting out way more that he actually needs before closing the lid and tossing it on the floor.

He grabs at his cock with an unusual forcefulness. He was rough with Amami when jacking him off, but he was fairly gentle with himself. 

Even though it’s just simple preparation, it’s getting Ouma excited. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this excited to fuck someone. 

He twists his fist around the head and pants. Between the rhythmic spikes of pleasure, Ouma manages to look down at Amami with a sultry gaze. 

“Next time I do - I do this, I think I’ll just shove a vibe in you and ride you instead.” Ouma sneaks his other hand behind himself and presses his index and middle finger to his hole. “I’m so empty back here. I want Daddy to fill me up.” 

“ _ Fuck _ .” Amami’s cuffs rattle against the headboard in a fit of want. Ouma smirks. 

“Maybe some other time.” He dips his fingers inside himself for a second, then removes them. He might actually be down for second round after this.  _ I really wasn’t lying about being empty.  _ “Maybe later.” 

“Fu-uck .” Amami reiterates, a bit less elegant. Ouma hums knowingly, wiping his slick hand off onto the bunched up blankets. 

Amami’s legs hook themselves around Ouma’s waist and hold. Ouma runs his hands back and forth down the plush skin, occasionally moving a bit farther to stroke Amami’s cock. 

“God, please just get inside me already.” Amami’s legs shift down on Ouma’s hips, trying to pull him closer. He was never one for that type of teasing; Amami liked teasing before and after sex. 

“Needy bitch.” Ouma lines his cock up with Amami’s hole and starts to push in. Amami’s breath hitches, eyes closing with pleasure. Ouma would have been shocked if there was even a hint of discomfort; he spent the better part of 15 minutes preparing him. 

Within seconds, he bottoms out and Amami exhales. “God, you just took me so well, Amami-chan~” Ouma runs his thumb against the spot where he and Amami connect. 

“Hmm...aaahh.” His moans are breathy and cute as hell. 

“Do you need time to adjust, or can I just start pounding you?” Kokichi trails a finger down Amami’s sternum as he squirms. 

“Yeah, mmmm. Just a sec.” 

It takes a little bit longer than a second for Amami to get adjusted.

When Amami give him the go-ahead, there is a tell-tale frustration in Ouma’s thrusts. Ouma isn’t a patient person; he doesn’t like to wait for anything. Not in line, not for people, and certainly not for sex. 

Amami was a slightly different case, and that was the only reason Ouma hasn’t left the room with a huff and a piercing comment. Waiting for him usually yielded some good rewards. 

His thrusts start to pick up speed as Amami tries to move his hips down. There isn’t any leverage and Ouma smirks.

“Awww. Does Amami want me to speed up?

The nod Amami gives is barely a nod, so weak that Ouma barely sees it. If Ouma were any further away from losing it, he’d tease. He’d draw this out and make Amami beg until he started to cry. Then he’d fuck him so hard that he’d forget his name.

But, he’s already fed up with how long this is taking so he pulls out to the tip and snaps his hips back in. 

The moan he gets out of Amami is worth all of the waiting. It’s a pretty sound, deep and caught off guard. Ouma continues with his pace.

Once he has a steady stream of sounds pouring from Amami’s — and his own — mouth, he decides to try something. 

He pushes his hand down in the middle of Amami’s abdomen, applying pressure and making him moan a little louder. He swears that he can feel his dick carving through Amami’s guts. 

His other hand digs its nails deep into the plush skin on his hips.  _ Amami’s body is so pretty. Amazing. _

His thoughts makes his eyes move almost involuntarily across Amami’s wound up form. He doesn’t look  _ as  _ wrecked as he did while Ouma was fingering him.  _ Par for the course; Amami has always liked foreplay more than actual sex.  _

He does have those same overwhelmed tears peeking from his waterline, threatening to spill over; but the utter bliss on his face is almost gone. His bangs still bounce with the force and his tongue peeks out more every second.

Ouma grabs Amami’s hips with both of his hands and speeds up. Amami’s moans start to get louder and louder. Ouma feels this unnatural urge to  _ break  _ him, to make him mindless with pleasure, to turn him into a whore.

Maybe he’s projecting, but now isn’t the time to think about that. 

Now is the time to get his boyfriend off.

The room quickly fills with wet slapping and a mix of pants and moans. Ouma is laser-focused on his cock and how fast it disappears inside Amami. 

The sharp sound of metal on metal pierces Ouma’s ears and draws his eyes up to the offensive sound. 

The metal chain that connects the cuffs together grates on the thin bars and rattles. Amami’s wrists flex and tug on the connecting point as his back curves in pleasure. 

“Baby, baby please uncuff me. I wanna touch you, please-” Amami’s voice has reached  _ that  _ point — a point that he only reaches when subbing. It’s weak, full of pleasure and want. Amami doesn’t beg often in the bedroom, so Ouma savors this. And usually gives in. 

Ouma reaches up with pleasure shaken hands to undo the cuffs. He only releases one, but Amami immediately reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. He doesn’t even try to undo his other hand. A shiver runs up Ouma’s spine, making him lean into Amami’s grip.

Even as a dom, Ouma couldn’t help but melt when Amami put his hands on him. That was the main reason he put him in cuffs in the first place. 

Ouma’s thrusts stutter when Amami slowly moves his fingers up to Ouma’s lips, tapping them in question. Without words, Ouma opens his mouth and lets Amami slip inside.

“I love to hear you talk, but- mmmhhh,” a moan breaks Amami’s words up, but he persists, “but, it’s  _ so  _ nice to hear you shut the fuck up for once.”

Ouma hums in agreement, unable to vocalize. It was nice not being able to talk. He didn’t care if that made him a bad dom; he’s still has issues with being quieted but Amami made it better. 

All of his moans being muffled by his beloved’s fingers makes Ouma’s head spin. He meets Amami’s eyes and bites down. Ouma’s thrusts let up as he focuses on how the flesh gives around his teeth. 

Ouma’s hips pick up speed again when Amami wiggles his fingers to back of Ouma’s tongue. He gags slightly, and Amami moans at the quick punch of a thrust that follows. 

The pressure building in his lower stomach starts to get more and more unbearable.

“Daddy,” Ouma mumbles around the intrusion. It sounds bad; it isn’t a word fit for a dom’s mouth.  _ Well. I guess I lost my dom personality when Amami shoved his fingers down my throat. “ _ -please?”

“C-cute. Go ahead and cum, baby.” 

Ouma’s sharp incisors dig into the thin skin of Amami’s knuckles and bare down as he cums, moaning loudly around the digits. He’s not sure if there’ll be blood, since he can’t feel any part of his body except his dick where it’s buried in Amami. 

The world, bit-by-bit, starts to fizzle out. His vision blurs and flashes white. He can’t feel anything. Somewhere in front of him, he can be his name being called.

“Come back to earth, Ouma.” Ouma only barely recognizes Amami’s hand running gently through his hair. He turns his head to the side, cheek being met by Amami’s bare chest.

“Huh? Eh-what?” Ouma blinks a few times, trying and succeeding to get his vision back.  _ I must have just… went out?  _ He looks down at Amami. Ouma doesn’t remember him cumming, but there are a few thin streaks of semen on the tan skin of his stomach.  _ I guess that’s one less thing for me to do.  _

“Haha, you up yet?” 

“I’m here, I’m here.” Ouma sits up faster than he probably should’ve and shakes his head.  _ C’mon Ouma! Get out of this stupid headspace— you didn’t even sub this time.  _ “Aw,” he hums,“was Amami  _ worried? _ ”

“A bit. You spaced out  _ hard _ .” 

“You’re the one I should be worried about, ya know.” Ouma moves his hand to undo Amami’s other cuff, but finds it already undone. “You undid yourself.”

Amami scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, it was starting to bother me.” Ouma replies with nothing but a huff, laying his head on Amami’s chest. “How long has it been since you’ve lost it after sex?”

“Shut up.” He won’t answer Amami directly, but it definitely has been a while.  _ _ He doesn’t know why; this time wasn’t even that rough or draining. Maybe it’s the heat. “So-” Ouma prompts, breaking the less than desirable tension, “-how do  _ you _ feel?”

“I feel sticky and gross, but it was nice. I always look forward to you topping me.” 

“Why do you rarely let me then?” Ouma teases.  _ There it is,  _ he realizes,  _ I guess I’m back.  _

As Ouma expected, Amami teases right back. “Cause it’s fun to watch up get  _ all  _ riled up when you can’t pin me.” He pinches Ouma’s cheek and gets his hand batted away immediately. “Oh, don’t be a brat.”

“I’ll be as much of a brat as I please.”

“Hmm, alright.” Amami ruffles Ouma’s hair, then sits up on the bed. “But let’s get a shower first, yeah?”

Oh, right. Ouma almost forgot that he came inside Amami. At first, he’s remorseful because he knows how uncomfortable it can be to be full of come. After that, he just gets annoyed because he never had a chance to watch it spill from him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go start it.” 

_ Amami will let you do it again.  _ Ouma leaps off the bed and goes to start the shower with that thought. He isn’t used to being the one up and moving after sex. Then again, he needs to be a good dom and do a bit of aftercare.Teasing

So Ouma puts the stop in the drain and runs a bath instead.

**Author's Note:**

> hahahaha the ending is kinda weird and it doesn’t really suit the idea i was going for so i MAY come back and rewrite the ending
> 
> If you couldn’t tell, I wrote this kinda fast cause I haven’t gotten a new Oumami fic up in almost 2 months and that’s crazy to me, so this is rushed like a motherfucker. So big apology for any typos/inconsistencies 
> 
> As usual, I take requests for this AU! Just comment ’em below! Also I appreciate any feedback!


End file.
